Ash
by SpellCleaver
Summary: I will turn Terrasen into a kingdom of ash, Erawan promised Lysandra, who was not Aelin, and they will think of you when they burn. / Introspective piece inspired by the title of the seventh book. Oneshot.


**This is just a little introspective piece inspired by the fact that the next TOG book is called _Kingdom of Ash_ , set sometime after my interpretation of what may happen in that book. It was heavily inspired by my friend's comment that "ash" is a type of tree as well as having connotations of fire. And naturally it's written from Elide's POV, because I love her.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own TOG.**

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A cool breeze plays with the ends of her hair, tugging and twisting them like a lady in some courting dance. Elide pays it no mind; she closes her eyes and leans back against the bark of the tree she's sitting in.

The air still smells of ash, even days after the final confrontation. It's fitting, she muses. Echoes of the event still play out all over the continent. The dark demons of Morath are still fleeing Erilea, shadows flitting through the night, unable to sustain their human hosts without Erawan's guidance going forward. They cause small scuffles where they run - the symptoms to watch out for, Aelin declares, are nosebleeds and headaches - but they can't transfer their essences to another host. They are scattered and ineffective.

They have lost.

Elide takes a deep breath: in through her nose, out through her mouth, just as Finnula used to talk her through in an attempt to numb the pain of her ankle. The ankle which will never fully heal, the remarkable healer Yrene claims, but rarely hurts anymore. Well, that's not quite true; it still hurts, but less so, and barely noticeable when she's not stressing the ankle too much.

It doesn't hurt now, cradled in the boughs of the ash tree as she is, but she does the breathing exercises anyway. Her heart beats in synchrony with the swaying of the tree. Two days after Aelin's final showdown with the Valg, and she can finally relax. Stop thinking, if only for a moment. _Breathe_.

For once, she doesn't choke on the scent of cinders and soot. Ash, from where Aelin had burned it away - burned it _all_ away. Elide remembers some of the terrible things she witnessed during the war - _I will turn Terrasen into a kingdom of ash_ , Erawan promised Lysandra, who was not Aelin, _and they will think of you when they burn_ \- but she feels that, for this one cherished moment, she can let them go. This is not the ash from the funeral pyres they had to light. This is not the ash from the burning of her homeland. This is not the ash from the fires of Hell.

This is the ash from Beltane. This is the ash that settles on the fields in preparation for summer, leaving them fertile and fresh for the farming year ahead.

Elide smiles as a leaf brushes her face.

Because that was the major flaw in Erawan's plan: He didn't understand them. He didn't understand Terrasen, or its fiery, beating heart.

They _are_ a kingdom of ash. Every year, during the bitter months, they burn logs and stoke the fires to stay warm. In the warmer months, they burn away the dead matter of winter to make way for new life. They leap over bonfires and sing and dance to the light of the flame. _We were founded by a man of fire and light, and we carry that fire and light with us every day, even in our darkest hours._

And Terrasen's most common, beloved flora? Ash trees.

To Adarlan and the other kingdoms, their most iconic tree is pine. Pine and snow - the scent of Terrasen, of _home_ \- certainly looks similar to the tree which dominates their artwork, when in art form. But that is the symbol of a foreigner's interpretation; pine trees grow far away, up in the Anascaul Mountains, where few can survive. The ash trees are much closer to home.

Terrasen's folklore claims that the world is held in the branches of an ash tree - an ash tree with roots in the underworld and its tips in the realm of the gods. It represents the magical potency in the monarch's veins, the numerous scions blessed by the gods who ruled Terrasen. A land of mountains and snow and love and danger and safety.

A land of _legends_.

The blending of the past, present and future; the achievement of the impossible; the simple _magic_ of everyday life, of each and every sentient being that lives and dies under the wintry skies. The ash tree's powerful roots are Terrasen's strength; its inconstancy as a deciduous plant their highs and lows as a nation; its health and fertility a sign of good things to come.

Ash is at the heart of Terrasen's folklore and culture, and so it is the heart of _Terrasen_.

And now, cradled in the branches of the tree that is as much a part of it all as Brannon himself was, all those years ago, Elide can finally find the peace her country has been lacking for so long.

"We are a kingdom of ash," she murmurs, "and because of it," she smiles to herself, alone with the ashy breeze, "we thrive."


End file.
